XVII: If You Want Love - NF

A main portion of the barrack's first floor was dedicated to training space. A large triangular dueling arena was marked on the floor. My eyes bulged at the sight of it. The sand was stained with many puddles of darker sand.

I forced my arms to remain placid at my sides at the killing field before my feet.

Na-Baron's staff then began to swirl around me. "This way, my lady. Up here." I was lost in the movement. My feet fell into a rhythm of ascension. I lost sight of Feyd. A set of stairs ushered me up to a viewing deck above the arena.

A large chair was a lone seat on the deck. It was placed close to the glass railing, as if wanting to witness the gore that more closely. I refused to be offered the seat. My feet stood, despairing at the events the day had brought.

Feyd remained on the ground floor. His fighting leathers were brought out. They slipped over his shirt and trousers.

Fear slicked across my tongue. My hands gripped the railing as I stared down at his outline.

I did not want to admit it was possible.

But for the second time his life was in jeopardy, and I was internally struggling to keep myself controlled. I did not want him dead. I did not even want him hurt. Except that I knew I should - because he'd deserve every injury he acquired for the rest of his life.

My stomach was more than sour on the verge of being sick. It was tearing itself apart.

Feyd raised his focus toward the viewing deck. I was poised on the tips of my toes over the edge, suddenly so frightened for him. It was torture the way he regarded me. A noble warrior on a mission of honor, or however he'd convoluted it in his head.

Palpable energy filtered into the strangled air. The men - soldiers of Harkonnen House army - began to fill in the empty spaces of the room. Their feet stomped as thundering drums. A deep throated song started.

It was the soundtrack to all Feyd's slayings. The path of destruction.

He became the monster na-Baron under that awakening song. His dual blades lifted in the air. The men cheered hard. Their feet stomped so hard the walls creaked from the vibration.

It was during this same commotion as the Beast was shown to the arena that Nasira slipped beside me. Her hand took mine inside her abaya. Through the slick folds of her dress, a cool touch of a slender piece of metal greeted my touch.

I pulled the knife from her pocket and slipped it up the inside of my forearm. The taut leather jumpsuit did not leave much room for hidden objects. It was far too tight.

"Thank you," I told her.

She nodded.

The fight began as they all did. The bigger man swiped and struck to use his power to obliterate the opponent while the smaller, agile man avoided the strikes and tired his bigger opposition out.

Feyd did not shy from attacking. His brother was bigger, thicker and older, but slower. He used it to his advantage. His feet danced circles around the Beast.

But. Glossu knew Feyd's tricks, too.

He caught one of Feyd's legs as he kicked. It anchored him to an unstable Feyd, now on one foot.

The Beast gripped the ankle and used it to throw Feyd across the arena.

Sand plumes filled the air as Feyd's body connected with the ground. I watched the dust settle. Feyd stood on his feet once more.

The men roared as the young heir walked his way back to face the challenge.

Feyd advanced with his blades this time. They slid along each other in a V shape. He used them to make small cuts the Beast was too slow to stop. He moved fast, slicing the length of his blade along any bit of open flesh there was. There was no savage breaking of any flesh. No stream of blood from any slit.

He toyed with Glossu. It was a cat and mouse game for Feyd. He tortured his brother with sick delight in the fury it would illicit from the massive Beast.

Glossu grew angry. He bunched both his fists and used them as clubs to stamp at the space around him. Feyd smirked. The crowd roared at its emergence. They knew how to read him in a dual. Their sound vibrated the air.

Feyd pulled a dagger from behind his back. He ran a blade along the soft side of his abdomen. When Glossu moved to attack the blade, Feyd stomped the dagger down through Glossu's foot into the sandy floor.

The Beast bellowed as the meat of his foot was sliced clean through.

I watched Feyd grow giddy.

He awoke an even angrier beast. Just as he wanted.

Glossu rushed Feyd, ripping and tearing his foot apart as he did so, to swing at him. Feyd narrowly stepped. He knew how to avoid the man's advance. But he'd not expected Glossu to grasp on of his own blades and force it around.

I could have sworn a scream escaped my mouth as the blade stabbed into Feyd's side.

He staggered away, gripping the blade.

The height of the sand was difficult for him to walk through. He struggled to walk backward, breathing heavy and holding the sword impaled within his body.

Both of Feyd's hands grasped the hilt. A loud grunt left his lips as he used his own strength. The silver blade was coated with inky black blood as it was revealed to the light.

My vision began to double. I felt hot and cold. My stomach churned in violent upset. The room began to spin.

I tapped my hands to catch Nasira's attention. The strength of my tongue failed.

Blackness came next. It slipped over me with little fight.

It took me to the depths of what awaited me in my soul: abyss.

The next thing I felt was a cool compress against my head. I groaned. My head throbbed. The chill only soothed the surface of the pain.

"Easy, lady. Easy." Vishti's voice cooed. Their hands touched my forehead. "You must rest. You had a fall. Your head took the worst of it."

That explained the aching.

"What happened?'

"You fainted at the duel, my lady."

"I bet I have your corset to thank." I groaned. My head was on fire. My thoughts literally burned. "How long have I been out?"

The itch at the back of my throat was drying fast. It felt like hours since I drank.

"Fifteen minutes. You were rushed back to the castle before you woke. Lucky you the barracks were full of fast runners."

Barracks. Right. The duel with the Beast.

My body jolted. "Feyd. Where is he? Is he alright?"

Vishti fought against me rising from the bed. "Please, my lady. You must rest. Na-Baron can take care of himself."

"I need to see him," I declared despite the screeching in my head begging for a lower volume. "Now."

"It's not safe. He barricade himself in." Vishti frowned. "He's not let anyone in."

"So he's just bleeding in there, alone."

"Is what he wants."

"No." I shook my head.

He was not dying without me. I would not be forced to endure this life alone.

I stomped out my chamber door. Vishit followed with their mumbling pleas to rethink my course of action. But no. I would not.

There were many people standing outside the chamber doors. All in wait for a command of their na-Baron.

Their eyes diverted to the floor when I approached.

A chorus of their voices hummed, "my lady".

"Let me pass," I said.

"Na-Baron give orders not to be disturbed."

"Let him tell it to my face then," I declared. "His lady has to hear it from his own lips."

"Oh, no, lady witch. He's very angry.'

The pleas shut behind the door as I closed them behind my back.

It was dark and silent. A deadly still filled the rooms.

No motion. No groaning.

Just, nothing.

There was a blood trail through the sitting room, bedroom and through to the bathing room. It speckled against the dark floor.

I was taken aback by the sight of Feyd, half armored, with a dark puddle at his feet growing by the moment. My hand gripped the door for a sobering moment. He stared in the mirror at himself. His eyes followed the stream of leeching blood from his wound.

I turned back around. Where was that med kit? He had it stashed somewhere in the bedroom.

There were loaded syringes of sickly yellow liquid and white gauze. I grabbed both.

His eyes pulled away from the mirror when I set down the supplies on the sink. Loudly.

"You missed my victory," he stated.

I did not care that he killed his brother. He would die if he didn't tend to his wounds.

"So, he is dead. Congratulations." I let it be bland from my lips. It would not bring him joy at my marvel. Or support.

He gritted his teeth and returned attention at the gaping hole in his side. It leeched darkness. Ragged ends of pale flesh hanged from grey muscles within his body.

I approached. My lips fell to a deeper frown when I saw the wound up close. It soured my stomach with more than just disgust. I hated his pain. Even if he didn't.

"Why are you so stubborn?" I murmured. My voice was barely strong enough to break the silence of the room. "This needs to be taken care of. You have ten people out there who know how to heal this. You could be on the mend by now."

He said nothing.

"Will you let them bandage this?" I pleaded.

"Let it bleed," he whispered back.

The faraway look in his eye grew in distance as more blood drained out of him.

He would savor every last drop as it leeched from his flesh if he could. My eyes averted. I could not watch him adore his downfall.

I grasped a syringe. The liquid shifted back and forth in the pre-loaded chamber. It was pale yellow. Not the color of health by my standard.

He did not flinch as I stabbed it against his side just above the cut of his flesh.

"Another," he bayed.

I administered the second syringe into his side. Again, he stared at himself in the mirror as the needle split his skin. Physical response to pain from him was unnerving. I ignored the way he leaned into the syringe and exhaled as it pulled from his skin.

Then I retrieved the bandages. "It needs to be wrapped."

"Let it bleed," he said again.

"I'm not letting it bleed," I snapped.

He snapped his eyes away from the mirror and finally looked at me with a grimace. "I want to feel it."

"I am not letting it bleed. So, either command me to leave or let me fix it," I replied with a stern tone of my own.

His jaw clicked closed but did not stop me as I wrapped gauze dressing around his torso. The gauze turned black right away. I kept winding it around until the entire thing was covered. I tied a tight knot against the wound to keep it in place.

I refused to endure his sickening pleasure from his own injury. My feet fled. The bedroom was intact, apart from the shoulder piece of his armor that was tossed against the floor. A full hand print of black blood stamped into the metal.

I walked along the bed frame in a worn path for many minutes before he exited the bathing room.

My mouth blurted its words as fast as it could. "If you want love, you're going to have to go through the pain. I'll not be convinced to stay here as your lady if you will not stay here too. If you wish to be bleeding to death, then you are not safe for me." I had to stop talking to calm the trembling in my voice. The intense gaze. I turned away from him. It made me sicker. "I wish someone would've told me."

"What?" He asked.

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter."

"You said it," he pointed out. "It must matter."

"I wish someone would have told me," I swallowed, "how hard it is to trust you not to leave."

The throbbing my head reemerged. It reminded me of its presence rather than the painful sickening twist in my chest. I'd thought it was my stomach upset by his blood. But no. It was my heart.

I held my head.

Feyd took a timid step closer. My outburst seemed to have frightened him. He was too quiet and apathetic. "Did they have you checked out by our doctor?"

I shook my head, not caring for my hurting head. It mattered little. It could be bashed against the wall for all I cared. "I am not the one weeping blood onto the floor."

"I will not die," he said firmly. "It does not hurt enough for it to be serious."

"How can you be so sure?" I snapped.

"I have survived enough to know." He strode forward. The white bandage remained in place around his torso. At least he had left it to absorb the blood.

My eyes fell downward. I was a mess of exposed nerves and dwindling strength. The vile vulnerability that I felt would be but an appetizer to his obsession with pain. He would savor the consumption of my breaking soul like those bloody rare pieces of meat he ate.

I was not the strong woman he first met. The ice I once lived in was thawing to water.

Feyd used a finger to raise my chin to observe his height above me. "There is no place for me to go, Mintha. There is nothing for me if you are not there, too. My return is guaranteed. I will come for you, even if it hurts, even if it's razor deep, even if my bones cannot carry my weight and I must crawl." His lips came closer. Our foreheads leaned together. A hand trailed down my neck, following the chain necklace to the center of my breasts above my heart where his ring rested. He pressed the ring against my chest. "You are the one thing in the Imperium I can call my own."

My body burned bright. Flutters toyed at my stomach.

"I don't know what to say, na-."

"And you call me your own," he said. "I belong to no other."

I interlaced my fingers in between his atop my heart. "Feyd."

"Say that again," he murmured. He caressed his nose against mine. The soft sweet hum of his plead hit my ears like a beautiful song. "I like the way it sounds. Say it again."

"Feyd-Rautha," I breathed.

Arms wrapped around me in an embrace. Our bodies curled against the form of the other. I wholly lost to his size. A cocoon of my own monster protection, I felt safe there.

If he was there, nothing could scare me.

Nothing did. Not the heat, or the Beast, or Muab'dib.

It was many days without an attack on a spice harvester. Moods in Carthag were elevated. We felt a success.

Feyd's stress was far less. It made him a rather humorous and joyous person with the weight of things eased. He continued his search for Muab'dib with the comfort of knowing it was not a scramble to recover losses. Not that they had many. He'd revealed once – in a late night talk before we fell to asleep in postcoital bliss – that they had stockpiles of spice from their allotment on the planet before him. Their losses were severe, but a droplet in the sands of the desert of wealth.

I was left very little time to talk with Vishti or find Aishti in the kitchen. Feyd refused to do anything without me. Even on the nights I was needed to be bathed, oiled and pampered, he was present in the chambers.

Vishti was irritated with his presence for every moment. They grunted and grumbled under their breath.

"Men. Not every moment is for them."

It was easy enough to endure. The days were sweet. I was unbothered. It was many days since I'd seen a murder. That was a record of some kind!

Even the duel with Glossu Rabban had not technically been a death since he had not killed his brother. He refused to give Glossu the satisfaction of death. He had used blades to anchor the Beast's limbs to the ground, leaving Glossu himself to tear through his own muscles to free himself.

The soldiers in the barracks were given strict orders not to aid Glossu. He had to remove his own limbs from their anchor in the floor by tearing his own muscles apart.

He did so. I could not believe it, but the servants assured me that he'd survived.

The Beast was not seen around the castle either. He recovered in private, somewhere.

One day, in passing, as Vishti helped me dress for the day in the few minutes per day we got alone that there was a large market happening in the city. It was the reason for all the colorful banners spread throughout the streets. I'd commented on my love of seeing color outside my window – after going so many years without it.

"Market," I murmured in awe. "What is at a market?"

"Many things. Wares. Still suits, crafted items, woven scarves, dresses. Many things."

"Will you take me to it?"

Vishti turned me around and secured my many braids with small ties. "If my lady wishes it, I will escort her. Only once she asks na-Baron."

I glowered. "I do not need to ask permission like a child. The lady of this castle is not a prisoner."

"Na-Baron has given orders to prevent it, yes?" Vishti clarified. "No one will go without his blessing."

"His swords still seem sharp to you, Vishti?"

It was snarky. Childish, perhaps. But I could not express my dislike of his rules to Feyd's face. He would only institute more.

"Yes, my lady."

Ugh. I flipped the many braids back behind my shoulder.

"Na-Baron does not deny you a thing, my lady. Ask and you shall receive. This, you know."

"I do not like the premise of having to ask."

"The city is not safe like here," they said. "Some may wish to harm you, na-Baron, Harkonnen. They do not want you here."

My lips frowned. They used their fingers to adjust my lips so they did not wrinkle so deep in my skin. Then a smear of tinted balm ghosted the length of my bottom lip.

Vishti instructed me to rub it in. I did as I was told.

"I thought Feyd was better than Glossu," I said. "He is much kinder to the people."

"There was another here before them, that was better and kinder."

For some reason I knew the name before she said it. "Atredies."

"I have heard the name," I revealed. "Who are these Atredies people? Why did they have the planet? I thought Harkonnen's always ruled Arrakis."

"Atredies are no more." They shook their head. "The Beast wiped them out."

I swallowed. "An entire people? How?"

"Harkonnen's know how to destroy. They destroy the Duke and his wife and young son. More the desert can claim as theirs."

"But why?"

"Spice," Vishti said. "It always spice with outsiders. They care for the money. Not the desert."

"Did na-Baron know this?"

"Yes. He know it."

My stomach hurt. "How old? Was the son?"

"Sixteen or seventeen. These things escape me now." Their fingers flattened down my brows. Oil was rubbed along the edge of my hairline. "I have a stubborn lady to tend to now."

I chuckled. "What would I do without you."

"Let's not find out, yes? Ask the na-Baron to leave for market and I shall bring the lady there."

Feyd knew how long to wait for my morning routine. He emerged through the doors as Vishti gave me a long twirl of final appraisal. He welcomed the sight of me with a smile.

"I heard something interesting, na-Baron," I revealed quickly.

His face lifted in curiosity. "Is that right?"

"There is a market in the city today. The streets will be filled."

He glanced at the windows. "I have heard of it."

"Then you know why I mention it," I said.

"You wish to go." He tilted his head.

"Yes."

I tried not to seem too hopeful. I had not been into the city since my own stroll that ended in a manhunt. An incident that he disliked the mention of.

To be denied an opportunity to escape the castle walls would frustrate me. There was little out there that I was granted access to. The castle was the only safety Feyd could ensure. But it became droll. Nothing of excitement consumed me with passion as this planet, these people did.

"It will not take long," I added.

If he did not think we'd part for long, he'd not concern himself with what could happen in his absence. A short walk through a populated market was not an ambush in wait. The city held more than killers. It was beauty and light and color. I wanted part of it.

Feyd released a sigh. "Very well. A short walk."

"Thank you, na-Baron!" I bowed my head. The excitement in my palms practically shook.

I grabbed for my shayla. Feyd moved toward the wardrobe too.

"We will be back in time for lunch," he proclaimed.

"We?"

My eyes appraised down his length. The castle finery of black would stand out against the brown of the city people.

"We," he repeated. "You did not expect to go alone, did you, my sweetness?"

"Alone, no." The shayla covered the top of my head and hair. Feyd grimaced as I tucked it around my neck. "Vishti could escort me."

"A slave is not protection, Mintha."

"I would permit a guard to accompany us if needed," I countered.

"Safety of you is my concern. Not to be left with just anyone. I have some time." He ran his thumb down the center of my lips. "I'll not deny you."

"It's no trouble, na-Baron. You are so busy here."

"Busy and in need of a distraction," he furthered. "Come. Keep up, my witch. You have me for a short while."

It was a confusing thing for him to explain to his personal guards and staff. They needed explanation. More than once.

Harkonnens did not enjoy things like markets, I supposed. That explained the struggle they all had for understanding the idea.

I was offered his arm once we were finally rid of the followers.

"It was not so difficult for me to leave the castle just on my own," I commented.

"Yes," he grumbled. "Don't count on it being repeated."

My hands tightened against his muscled arm. He side-glanced with a sly smirk.

The sound of the city was full of life. There were many out in the streets. Center street - the largest, widest one cut in the center of the city - was lined with many white linen tents. Each tent held a vendor. Colorful banners flapped in the wind. They made an illusion of a ceiling as we walked the street.

Some vendors sold foods, raw and cooked. Skewers were a common item. Everything and anything was placed on a metal skewer to be sold to passersby.

I drooled over a couple before Feyd gave in and bought one. I expected him to grumble about the cost, however a common complaint he had was over how little I ate, so he must have been satisfied with my appetite.

We strolled down the center street. The sight of us split the crowds. Although I looked the part of another woman dressed in common wealthy Arrakis attire, Feyd's macabre fashion choices were noticeable. There were some brave enough to approach to peddle. Not many.

The young na-Baron was a strange study. He was amused by the efforts vendors made to have him take favor to their wares. Other than those brief moments of emotion, he appeared withdrawn, indifferent to the experience. Maybe a hint of annoyance.

To him, it was a bland wasteland of people and things that he held no emotion for.

I'd been excited to leave the castle to view some of the native works, though Feyd's attitude was more consuming. My thoughts were too focused on him at my side. How he moved, how he breathed, what caught his notice as we traveled.

The market was not a place I intended to bring him along. I had even asked for a guard if he was concerned about my safety. But he, specifically, invited himself along.

Feyd took a breath of relief when we turned back for the castle.

I'd tolerated the attitude for as long as I could stand it.

"Is there something impertinent that needs tending to, na-Baron?"

"No, my lady."

Ugh!

We proceeded down the street -alone since no one else would approach - when a small child ran up and grasped my legs in a hug. The little arms managed to loop behind the backs of my knees so I couldn't move forward.

"Oh." I blushed.

Feyd tensed and reached for his side. I grasped his arm in disbelief.

A child?!

"Step away from the lady," Feyd ordered.

The child did so. It revealed a face I recognized.

My lips gasped. "Musa!" I bent and scooped him in my arms. "What are you doing out here?"

He snuggled against my shoulder, a wide smile on his lips.

Feyd frowned. "You know this boy?"

"His mother works in the castle. She's the one who taught me to dance," I explained.

Musa raised his head. When he noticed Feyd, he shivered and looked away.

His beautiful dark eyes gazed into mine, fearful and trusting of me. I held him close to me, comforting him. We swayed, like we'd done before.

Feyd shifted. His upper lip stiffened. "He does not like me."

He was the one who talked of heirs. Heirs started as children, babies even. The monster would father a few just like this. Wouldn't he be comfortable with a child?

An attempt at a smile would have been a better option than what he did: dead eyed serious stare with a strange snarl that worsened as time wore on.

I looked at Musa's small shy face with a soft smile. "He was the same with me at first."

Feyd scoffed. "Right."

"He was. I was tense and uncomfortable. It made him nervous. But once I warmed up, he started to like me."

A woman in an abaya approached. She spoke in the local language. Her two arms opened.

Musa whined. "No."

His fingers pulled at my dress as he was handed back to his guardian. The boy kicked and whined. The woman showed nothing but kindness to him as they continued on their journey through the market.

Musa's betrayed look haunted my eyes. The beating of my heart was heavier, harder in my chest. I could not see a thing else beyond his face.

The rest of the walk was done in silence. Feyd escorted me right back to his chambers for a meal. He always made certain that I was given food after the one incident of not eating. There was food kept around the chambers for easy access. And if I slept longer than normal, he would not calm down until I ate something.

We sat in our usual places, I was always on his left side.

The tension in the market had my mind obsessing over his response. To the market and to Musa. He spared a child from a prison sentence and death, but was quick to reach for a blade at an infant? He spoke of heirs and legacy often. It was his lasting triumph over his uncle and brother that he held great hopes to.

All of these moments conflicted with one another. Did he adore children? Did he merely respect their innocence? Was the idea of a child near his sex partner bother him enough to almost violently oppose it?

I lowered my utensils to my plate. Feyd looked at the empty plate with disapproval.

"How long do you expect us to be here on Arrakis?" I asked.

"A few years, perhaps." He shrugged. "Why?"

"Then you will overthrow your uncle and emperor?"

Feyd narrowed his eyes. "It will not be so simple."

"You will be married shortly after?"

His chewing slowed. A slight narrowing of his eyes showed his discomfort in my line of questioning. He, however, did not object to it.

"The marriage will be of pure political alignment." A cloth napkin wiped against his mouth and was then tossed down to the table. "It will make the overthrow of the emperor easier. It is not done because I desire a wife."

I imagine not any desired wives. They took them because of lineage. Concentration of power. As all these royal minded people seemed to think of.

My acceptance of his answers did not settle his suspicions. He kept his gaze narrowed at me.

"Why do you ask of these matters," Feyd then questioned.

I shrugged. "It was my own curiosity about your children, na-Baron."

He straightened in his seat. A hand gripped the arm rest very tensely. "My children?"

"Will you be a present father in their lives, or is it a matter of your honor that you have them? I'd imagine you will have servants to assist you, of course, but you do speak highly of your heirs."

Feyd tilted his head in thought. "What would my lady say to it? I will defer to her wishes."

"Me?" The air escaped my lungs in surprise. "You want to know what I think?"

He would refer to my judgement on the matter of his children, but not the children's mother?

"You are my lady. We are as one. I will do as you wish."

"Oh. Thank you, na-Baron."

"Feyd," he corrected.

He disliked that I still struggled to use his first name. "I am trying to remember, Feyd. It is a force of habit to use your title."

The tension in him dissipated. He eased back to relaxing against his seat. The calm of the attacks left him less hostile toward disagreement.

It gave him a more shining edge. He yearned for a good time.

A party.

The castle buzzed with excitement through preparations for another social event. The overworked staff were given no days of rest as every ounce of manpower was needed to ready Feyd's hefty request done at a day's notice.

The night before, he even took a private party with his closest nobles - the other harem. As they drank themselves stupid and challenged each other to duels, I was allowed to find my own amusement.

First, I sought out Aishti in the kitchens. She was delighted to see me. Her arms threw around me in a hug.

"I can't stay long," I relayed. "I don't know how long na-Baron is occupied."

"Ah." Her hand dismissed the concern. "Adnan will tell us. He serves na-Baron and his friends. They are through their first bottle already. It will be a long night."

She gestured toward the kitchen worktops. A line of wine bottles went through the center. One lacked a top.

"Already? It has only been twenty minutes."

Aishti laughed. "They work fast."

We stepped further into the chaos of the kitchens. Between preparations for Feyd's party and his own private party in progress, the kitchens were in full panic. Pots sat overtop open flame. Ladles, spoons, metal spatulas and skewers decorated every inch of worktop space. The air was filled with combating flavors. which would reign supreme? They all fought for strongest.

Aishti pulled aprons from a line just outside the kitchen doors. Her hands beat against the fabric, brushing the light layers of dust from the surface, before she pulled them into a woven basket.

"Is my lady excited for na-Baron's party? A great many will be there."

"Not more than I was for the first. This will be just another party."

She snapped the fabrics once again. "What are you going to do to entertain them now?"

"Nothing. The only entertainment they want from me now is my throat slit."

The kitchen chaos was burst through with a man in a louder noise. He pulled down his leather hood. A fluffy set of curls poofed out from below.

"The brutes ask for more wine and the pickled eyes." His accent was strong. It was of local dialect.

"Ah. Yes. I have it," a burly woman answered.

A horrid look curled Aishti's face. The physical revulsion meant she had seen the atrocity of Harkonnen delicacy.

I knew she had not smelled them. There would be physical retch.

"That is Adnan. He serves the na-Baron."

Adnan caught sight of me standing in the kitchen. He forced the leather hood back on his head. He bowed to the floor. "Forgive me, lady."

In the commotion of preparations, there was not space for such grandeur. The rest of the staff felt obligated to bow their heads and murmur 'my lady' which was an ordeal that I hated to endure.

My throat went dry. "Please. Please stop."

"I beg forgiveness."

I motioned him to his feet. "Na-Baron is demanding. I understand."

"It was wrong of me to say brute," Adnan stated. His eyes refused to meet my gaze. "Na-Baron is good. Good and kind. Good ruler."

The pickled eyes - I did not know whose eyes and ever dared ponder it further - were produced in a large jar. Two bottles of wine were placed upon the tray. Adnan grabbed it and dashed out of the room before more could be said.

It made me uncomfortable to be regarded as one of the Harkonnen overlords.

Having someone fear me was a nasty sensation. It pulled my joy from the moment.

"I could teach you another dance," Aishti said.

I blinked from my spiraling thoughts. "Hm?"

"One for two people this time. Not only the beautiful lady."

"I do not think na-Baron knows how to dance," I said.

"All high born men know how to dance, my lady. It is you who should know the dances."

The atmosphere was more chaotic than it was prior. I looked around the space. My presence was in the way. People side-stepped me, or physically bumped into my feet.

I decided to withdraw from the kitchens so I did not hinder their work. Aishti assured me that she would come by in the morning.

My chambers were a comfort. A piece of myself melted back in place. Just me on my own as I had been for so long, it felt right.

Feyd gave me so little time to myself in recent days. It was suffocating. I struggled to control my own emotions with his temptations so constant and persistent.

Of course, as I stared at the walls of my own place, suffocating poison bled into my heart. Thoughts of a dungeon cell, a lonely room in a dark metal castle, the sheer vastness of space - me only a smudge on a grain of sand.

How small, insignificant I was.

My eyes stared at the pillow where I'd tucked a knife for safe keeping. Nasira had not asked for it back. And either Vishti did not snoop or care that the blade remained within the pillowcase.

I'd kept it after the Beasts' duel. As a safeguard.

The knife called out to me. Its soft exact edge promised release. Sweet release.

No. No. I had to get out of here.

I promised Feyd not to do it…